A/N: Don't own any character by the way. Only ones who are made-up.
There might be a wee bit of Angst in this chapter.
I want to thank all those who have read my stuff so far. These stories are for you guys. Thanks.
The sound of his cell phone brought Danny Messer out of a very restless sleep he had just slipped into after just falling into bed not that long ago. Rubbing his eyes, he squinted his eyes to see who had the nerve to call him at hell knows what time in the wee hours in the morning it was. Letting out a groan, he flipped open his phone, not even moving to flip on any source of light at all. "Messer," he replied rubbing the bridge of his nose as he glanced at the small clock on the side of his bed. It read a little after three in the morning.
All he could hear was water for a few seconds and he scoffed. 'This better not be a damn prank phone call,' he thought as he went to check the number.
"Help," the voice came through the phone causing his blood to freeze and he quickly checked the number. It came back as Monroe's.
"Lindsay?" Messer called out as he quickly sat up, not caring that he was dead tired. "Lindsay?" He ran a hand through his hair, after he threw on the lamp next to his bed. "Talk to me . . . "
"It hurts . . . " the voice gasped. "You have to help . . . " Then the line went dead.
Danny stared at the phone for a few seconds feeling dumb founded. He and Lindsay had broken up a few weeks ago, and not really on the best terms. True they had talked enough so that they could work together on somewhat decent terms so that they weren't trying to kill each other, but she rarely talked to him any more outside of work. But this call, didn't feel like a prank to him, and she wasn't the kind to prank him, even when it was put up by the others.
Danny let out a deep breath, as he quickly dialed her cell number. "Come on," he muttered, as he got to his feet and headed for his kitchen. His throat was suddenly dry and he needed something to drink. The phone rang one . . . "Come on." Twice . . . "Come on Montana, pick up the phone." He paused when he saw something of hers sitting on the bookcase and froze. He had meant to give her that back, but somehow hadn't gotten around to doing that. It rang a third time, and once more would send it to voice mail. "Come on, Lindsay, pick it up."
He was about to grab a picture frame of them both, when her phone picked up. "Hello," she muttered, causing him to twirl around away from the picture. Her tone was one of someone who had just got either the tar beat out of them or they were very weak. "Hello?"
"Montana!" Danny called out, beginning to pace his apartment. "What the hell's going on? I'm not one to prank at three something in the morning. Why the hell did you call me?"
"Danny?" there was a tone of relief in her voice, one that he hadn't heard in a very long time. "Is it really you?"
He let out a small chuckle, as he paused to look out one of his windows and then frowned at her question. "Yeah, Linds, it's really me." He turned away from the window. "What's going on?"
"You have to help me," she cried out softly, causing him to turn around sharply. There was extreme fear in her voice. "I didn't know who else to call. Please, Danny . . . "
"Okay, take a deep breath and tell me what the hell is going on!" he demanded, running a hand through his hair. "Cause this really isn't doing us all any good if you're yanking my chain just for shits and giggles, Monroe!"
"Danny, I'm serious!" He could hear the terror in her voice even, and could picture the tears running down her face. Just then a noise came from behind her, followed by a cry somewhere near her. "Shh . . . it's gonna be okay. He'll come for us. He's not gonna leave us."
"What are you doing?!" a harsh voice yelled.
"Don't . . . " several voices cried out before there was an eery silence before a loud noise.
The loud noise caused Danny to jump, it was one that he had heard many times throughout his entire life, some before he had become a police officer and since then. There just wasn't any way you could fake that sound. He stared down at the picture in his hands as the sound of the gun shot echoed in his ear and his mind.
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